


Ataxia

by abluemountainashtardis



Series: Mercury Veins [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abluemountainashtardis/pseuds/abluemountainashtardis
Summary: Term for a group of disorders which affect co-ordination, balance, and speech





	Ataxia

Most days his mom had been great. She'd ran around barefoot in the sprinklers with him, planned surprises for his dad with him, walked together through the forest answering every question he could think to ask. She knew all the plant's names. She had endless energy to keep up with him, she acted like a big kid herself usually. She was so good with him, so good to him, it was easy to forget she could snap sometimes with no reason. She forgot too.

 

If sometimes she held him close and cried a little that was fine. If she would say a sentence in another language and then try to brush it off, that was cool. He could keep a secret or two or twenty.

 

If his mom taught him some knife skills that was because she was safety conscientious. If his mom made him practice chess, well his dad was thrilled when he found out. If she made him problem solve day in day out with improbable situations then that was cool, Stiles loved figuring things out and he loved dragons and wizards too.

 

He loved his mom, and now he was older it was easier to weed out the moments where she wasn't in control, easier to forgive her, easier to breathe.

 

+

 

The thing that strikes Stiles first is Jimmy Goldberg. Uncle Jim had joined the force in the winter of 1995. He knew that. He _knew_ that.

 

This revelation strikes him mid conversation.

 

“Stiles?”

 

“Yeah Scottie?”

 

“Are you going to drive me or what?”

 

“Of course Scottie I would love to drive you to the place they stick needles into your skin to permanently mark your arm. That sounds swell and not infectious at all.”

 

“Shut up and drive!”

 

Stiles snorts and pulls out onto the road, driving Scott to whatever dingy tattoo parlour that won't check his ID too closely Scott's picked out.

 

_“Come on and sit down, kiddo.”_

_Stiles flounced his way over to Uncle Jim's desk and landed on the seat across from him._

_“Your dad out on a call?”_

_“Storm knocked a telephone line down or something,” he said swinging his legs in concentric circles. “It's real bad out there,” he commented._

_“Oh I've seen worse. In fact, my first day on the job had a storm like this.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Oh yes, the winter storm of 95! Why I remember that the hospital was overrun by patients left right and centre. They had to call us for some security! Oh it was a doozy. Your dad was with me on that first day. Cool as a cucumber he was.”_

_“Yeah,” Stiles grinned. “That's my dad.”_

 

So he knew that his Uncle Jimmy wasn't a deputy until winter 1995. He knew.

 

So how come he was at his parents wedding in the summer of 1995? That was impossible, so the wedding happened later than he's been told? Maybe? That seemed like the only logical choice - but why would they lie about that to him? Had he been lied to? He can't remember being told what year the wedding was, he had done the math in his head from when he been born to the summer before his mom was pregnant so -

 

His mom was already pregnant when she got married to dad.

 

Was that the big secret?

 

“Dude?”

 

“What?”

 

“If it really freaks you out I can go in myself.”

 

“No way dude, we've battled monsters - I can handle a measley old needle.”

 

So of course he faints.

 

+

 

Stiles roots through the photos again. Examines every shot of the wedding.

 

You never see mom in a full length shot. Never see her tummy. She could have been... She might have...

 

Why hide it? But when do you bring that sort of thing up? But there's no photos. No evidence. No one but his dad would know now.

 

Everyone else is dead.

 

+

 

His mom and dad had had a world wind romance.

 

“Hey kiddo, I’ve got spaghetti on the stove.”

 

She waltzed into Dad’s life and less than three months later…

 

“Stiles?”

 

Stiles jumped as the hand landed on his shoulder, nearly falling out his seat. His dad raised an eyebrow.

 

“Been a while since I’ve seen you hyper focus like that. What caught your attention?”

 

Stiles shrugged standing, the room spinning slightly.

 

“Stiles, hey,” his dad caught his elbow. “You alright?”

 

Stiles stared at his dad. Really stared.

 

They didn’t have the same build. Or nose. Or jaw. Or eyes.

 

_You look so much like your mother._

 

Stiles was well on his way to towering over him. Did that normally happen?

 

April until September wasn’t enough time to…

 

“I’m fine,” Stiles croaked. “Spaghetti?”

 

A minuscule frown appeared between his dad’s eyes.

 

“Come on, you need feeding I think. Too much thinking going on in that brain of yours.”

 

Yeah, Stiles thought, too much thinking.


End file.
